


Jemma Simmons, her Harem and the Hacker

by Selmak



Series: Jemma and Her Boy Toys universe [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selmak/pseuds/Selmak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma and her boys continue their relationship. Part of the Jemma and her Boy Toys universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silver Fox Preserve

Jemma Simmons and her harem settled somewhat easily into their new home. There was a great deal of painting and remodeling required to make it perfect.  After six months, Jemma had to admit that there were only a few minor issues…  sometimes the boys didn’t know which shirt was whose and John and the very idea of vacuuming were not very closely acquainted.  Plus the less said about Garrett Tuesday Taco night the better.

Ok, she **_lied_**.

There was one big elephant in the room.

And it wasn’t the near constant remodeling as the place they had planned for Skye wasn’t actually legal, or the fact that she had regretfully decided to put off repairing the overgrown garden for another year.  Phil and John had both understood her disappointment as they **_asked_** and **_listened_** about what she had hoped to have in her garden.

There was no real choice in the matter, Felix had gone through the budget repeatedly and the garden had lost when it had come down to fixing the HVAC. Really, Heating, Venting and Cooling would be greatly appreciated in the winter and the summer, especially if she was pregnant.  And yes, she had planned to have her garden completed before she was up the duff. It would be her sanctuary, her refuge for quietness and contemplation.

The problem was…to quote the irrepressible Trip, the introspective Felix was being lost in the sauce.  John and Phil were THERE. They were loud, they were chatty and sometimes Jemma had to focus on the fact that Felix was actually in the room with the four of them.  Even Winston was more assertive in demanding her attention and affection.

It started off small.

Bedrooms. Or should she say BEDROOM. Single. Really, somehow she thought there would be one big bed.

 ** _Wrong_**.

Felix required his own space, a music room, so he could play his guitars in peace.  Being considerate, he insisted on the room being sound proofed so not to disturb anyone.  She tried to be understanding, not **_hurt_** when a queen sized futon and a dog bed made its way there.  

Yes, she understood that he needed a chance to decompress. Really, the expectation that the solitary Felix living with three people without an easy escape was asking far too much from him.   However… she wanted him near her.  She **_loved_** him.

Then John decided he needed his own place to lay his hat and Phil staked out a small den (Jemma had thought it would have been a lovely place for a nursery when they got that far) for this spot.

It wasn’t that she was sleeping alone. Far from it, as there was always one of her boys (or more) that snuggled into her bed, but it was rarely all three. Four, if you included Winston. Plus, she noticed a pattern – Jemma/Phil, Jemma/Felix, Jemma/John, Jemma/Phil/Felix, Jemma/John/Phil & the very delightful Goddess Jemma/her Adoring Boys but the Jemma/John/Felix coupling was rarest.

And her attempts at creating some sort of order with the overgrown garden so it was HER space were futile.  Patience was required, especially as Skye deserved heat in her apartment.  John and Phil had spent several weekends cutting back the worst of the overgrowth. However, the sentient Forest seemed to have opinions of its own on the matter and had swallowed their fierce struggles with nary a belch.

Dare she even think about what was really making her concerned about her introspective silver fox?

Nikki/Jasper. 

Nikki was back in town, as she and Jasper were planning on marrying and having lots of babies as soon as possible.  Now, she wouldn’t admit to being jealous but… Nikki (Ok, Jasper) had requested Jemma’s permission for Felix be in the wedding party which she NATURALLY agreed because well, she didn’t want to act JEALOUS, STROPPY COW… but Felix was being… Felix… as though pondering the road not taken.  Felix was being very quiet and pensive plus having that little bit about having lunch with Nikki once a week.

And there were date nights. 

Phil would program her GPS with the address of a restaurant and she’d drive there, not knowing his plans until they arrived. However, Phil was now advising her on the dress code of the establishment after she had worn a very nice dress to a hole in the wall Taqueria. Phil had been quite correct, they were the best fish tacos she had ever eaten.  One special time had even been the Loeb Boathouse at Central Park complete with dancing, really good champagne and a lovely hotel.

Date nights with John were fun and thrilling regardless of the weather. It could be snowcycling, taking their motorcycles out for a spin, sometimes the gun range, even kayaking on the Hudson.

Felix… well… his date nights were rather prosaic.  There was lovely moments at home where they cuddled and binge watched Doctor Who.  Even then, when it was just the three of them, Felix was still chary and contemplative yet so sweet in his kisses.

And Jemma wondered if Felix was **_happy_**.  He was being terribly introspective… and she was afraid to ask.

Because what if he was, and her doubts upset him?

What if he wasn’t and the bottom fell out?

* * *

 

“Hello, Angela,” Felix greeted Jasper’s cousin.  His scheduled weekly lunch with Nikki was actually a cagy way for him to meet with Angela, a supposed world-renown landscaper, who claimed that she could tame the Jolly Green Forest into something Jemma would enjoy.  She smiled in greeting and handed him a tablet. That’s what he liked about her, she was direct, to the point, reasonably priced as he rated the family discount; however when he flicked his way through her designs, he thought her a trifle bit barking mad. “What’s **_this_**? A tree with a door?”

“It’s a **_fairy_** door,” explained Angela. “Every English garden needs a fairy door.”

“She didn’t mention it to either John or Phil,” Felix protested. Not out of a sense of stubbornness, but because he was struggling to keep within his budget.  Jemma had wished a garden because it reminded her of home, but the damn furnace had needed to be replaced, then the electrical panel…  He had managed to finagle enough for the three of them to give Jemma a small English garden because her Herculean efforts at taming the disaster had been for naught.  

It behooved Felix Blake to ensure everything was perfect. John and Phil had been less than helpful as they had both glibly assured him that Jemma would be delighted with **_whatever_** the landscaper was able to carve out of the wilderness.  Jemma was **_amazing_** , she shouldn’t have to **_SETTLE_**.  Felix also knew that his brothers wanted to reassure him so he wouldn’t obsess over the smallest detail. (Yeah, right. Didn’t work.) The responsibility for ensuring that Jemma’s English Garden was perfect was resting completely on his unworthy shoulders. 

The questions Angela asked him! Tough choices such as what flowers and trees Jemma would wish. What paving stone, what furniture… Damn it, he had no idea what color flowers she wished, but fortunately Winston had given him a clue. 

The Giant Schnauzer had been caught snoozing on Jemma’s lingerie, so Felix had girdled his loins, opened the drawer full of lacey unmentionables (Trying  NOT to remember how traumatizing it had been last time when he had gone into that drawer.  Jemma had highlighted and sticky noted a book full of sexual hints for older men, and MARY SUE had given it to her so no doubt Mary Sue had a full report on Jemma’s brother-husbands) and determined what colors were in the drawer.  If she wore the colors for them, then the colors must be her favorites?

Right?

Right!

Maybe.

A small snarky voice remarked on that fact that Jemma probably bought her assorted play clothes in the colors her harem liked best.

Oh Good God! He was clueless.

What the hell did he know? He bought his boxers in the colors that were on sale.  Ties were different, as they needed to go with the SHIELD color regulated suits.  That meant dark colors, maybe stripes, and once in a very great while he wore the Ugly Polka Dotted Tie that Victoria Hand had purchased for him.

“It’s fun… it’s whimsical,” Angela explained. “English gardens need a sense of quirkiness. It’s the British perspective.”

“I thought it was keeping buggering on,” protested Felix, as he was owned by one Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill Blake, Service Dog Extraordinaire. Naturally, both women ignored him.

“Felix doesn’t do whimsy,” fondly inserted Nikki. “He’s very much by the book.”

“Thanks,” growled Felix. He looked at the fairy door (really, would they damage a tree to install it? He knew that Jemma would be horrified) and then he had a brilliant idea. And yes, it was fanciful and quirky yet…. **_useful_**. Fortunately, he quickly found what he wanted and there were even instructions. “No fairy door.  Do this, instead. You make this, and I will paint it.  What can I say, Nik? I’ve **_changed_**.”

Nikki, the woman he once loved more than anything, gave him a very approving smile. “I’m so glad Felix is back. Jemma is a lucky woman.”

“So, her conference is three weeks from now. Do you think you can make this all come together by then?” Felix questioned even as he tried not to show how much Nikki’s comment had affected him.

“Yes, we can get it done.”

“I’ll pick up the paint,” Felix announced. “Pantone 2955C.”

* * *

 

Jemma had a conference where she and Fitz would be headlining. She was an old pro at presenting at conferences, but this **_was_** the first one since she had decided to open the Jemma Simmons Silver Foxes Preserve. She’d be leaving her boys unattended for a full ten days, and naturally she worried. Especially as tonight had been date night with Felix and he had canceled.  Claimed he had to run an errand that couldn’t wait, so Jemma felt… out of sorts.

“You’ll keep an eye on Felix,” she requested of Phil.  Of all her boys, she was the only one that she trusted to keep himself unharmed while she was away.  Once, due to her optimistic nature, she had given permission for her boys to enjoy a boys’ weekend and it had ended with John and Felix both in cardiac arrest. 

Really, that had been a traumatic experience not worth repeatedly. “He’s being very quiet lately.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him also,” offered John while Phil said nothing.

“Phil… please… not that I don’t trust John but… you’re the adult,” Jemma pleaded to the nonresponsive Coulson. “John not so much.”

“HEY!” John protested. “I resemble that remark!”

“I want you to sex him every night while I’m gone,” continued Jemma.  “I don’t want him sleeping alone and Winston doesn’t count. He’s being….”

“Eeyore,” Phil interrupted. “You don’t have to worry, Jemma. He’s **_fine_**. Felix is concentrating on a project and he’s just preoccupied.”

“What’s he working on?” Jemma asked.

“Oh **_no_** , not getting into an argument with my brother,” Phil protested.  “I promise that I’ll tuck him into bed, read him a bed story and give him a good night kiss every night that you’re away, but I’m not confessing anything regarding  Felix’s current mission.”

A long searching stare revealed that Phil was stone faced, which meant no further information would be forthcoming. It was best to admit (pretend) defeat and then hit the weakest link, John Garrett.

“You should know by now that I would never wish to come between you three.  As long as you take care of Felix, I’ll be happy. Just don’t let him overwork himself into a complete collapse,” Jemma murmured. 

Phil, grateful for a Jemma granting him reprieve after he promised, promised, PROMISED to keep his eyes on Felix, then ran for the hills. That left Jemma with Garrett so she began the inquisition with a very soft, “I do worry about Felix. You **_know_** how he gets.” Yes, she even did her best Antonio Banderas’ Puss in the Boots Big Eyes.

There; it was a nice, easy pitch. Hopefully, John would swing for it even as she made her eyes bigger.

“He wants it to be perfect,” John admitted. “I can’t blame him.”

“Then it’s not Nikki related,” Jemma determined. “What a relief.”

Garrett’s response was to sit in the couch and pull her down into his lap.

“No, there’s only one person he’d work this hard for…” John informed her.  “Don’t say a word, because you know damn well, who is the **_only_** person for whom he’d work himself into a complete collapse.  I can’t believe you are jealous about Nikki. Fork has been stuck in it and been declared well done.”

“I don’t want him to work himself into a breakdown,” protested Jemma. “Especially for me.”

“Phil and I are helping him. I promise we are doing everything we can to prevent Felix from Felixing himself into an early grave. Just please, whatever the end results are, just remember how much effort he put into it.  He wants to get it completed while you are at the conference so you’ll be surprised when you get home. I don’t know if he can pull it off.”

“He cancelled date night tonight,” whined Jemma. “I can be quite cross about that, can’t I?”

“He is in pursuit of a very specific item for The Project.  It’s proving illusive, which is naturally adding more stress.  Tonight, why don’t you slip into that Tardis Blue lingerie of yours and greet him in his music room?” was John’s helpful suggestion.

“Am I allowed in **_there_**?” murmured Jemma.

“Jemma, you are most assuredly allowed in his inner sanctum. Now go give the poor man some Jemma-time.”

* * *

 

Finally… The illusive Pantone 2955C had been located, several gallons acquired and was now in the garage.    The mission accomplished, he slipped into his music room to discover that Goldilocks … Jemma… was sleeping in his bed.  Silently, he slid in next to her and he was asleep within minutes.

* * *

 

After Jemma was safely escorted to the airport and the plane had left (with confirmation that Jemma was onboard), the three men rolled up their sleeves and got to work.   It was a long, exhausting week full of backbreaking labor as they struggled to constrain and adapt the garden according to Angela’s rather grandiose ideas.  The garden fought back with all its considerable might, as the three men were subjected to rose prickers, splinters and downpours.

“You look thirsty,” Phil murmured as he handed Felix a drink.  Felix did not look thirsty, instead he appeared to be in a state of near agony. The unsuspecting Felix gulped the drink down and then glared at Phil in true hurt as he realized that **_Phil_** had slipped him a **_mickey_**. “You **_bastard_**!”

“You kiss Jemma with that mouth?” John asked. “That’s kinda spicy, Blake.”

“He drugged me,” protested Felix.  In a futile attempt at protesting, he faced the other man who had betrayed him, “You let him! We’ll never get this completed.”

“Night, night pumpkin,” John chortled even as Felix collapsed into a deep slumber. “Shit, how much did you slip him?”

“Not that much,” admitted Phil.  “I was hoping, at most, he would take it easy for the remainder of the day. I think he’ll be out for the count until tomorrow morning.”

“He’s just so cute when he’s unconscious,” confessed John. “I love to watch him when he’s sleeping.”

Garrett’s sideway glance deserved an epic head smacking, but Phil ignored him. It would upset John more.

“Seriously?” Phil protested. “I know **_you_**. You prefer him unconscious as he isn’t derailing your grandiose plans.”

“And who talked to Angela about the mother duck and duckling statue?” Garrett reminded Phil.

“You bought the abstract Schnauzer statue,” protested Phil.  “Plus the Fawkes metal statue.”

“She likes Harry Potter,” John reminded Phil. “Plus Winston wanted to be included. She is his mommy after all. Do you think we can get the statues placed before Sleeping Blake wakes?”

The two men looked at each other, and then at Felix. The drooling Blake was dead to the world, the Nine Realms and most of the cosmos.  The look of betrayal was frozen on his face, and Phil knew that Blake would be PISSED when he woke.

Oh well, he had promised to Jemma that he’d protect Felix from himself.

“I think we can,” dryly admitted Phil.

* * *

 

Her flight home was delayed, so she arrived home two days late.   She was a bit peckish, plus in dire need of a shower when her boys welcomed her home.

“I heard you knocked ‘em dead,” Garrett proudly crowed even while her other boys made proud pronouncements.  There was a great many hugs and kisses and it was glorious to be home once more.

“I’d love a proper bath and then bed,” murmured a jetlagged Jemma.

There was a sideways look between Felix and Phil which confused Jemma. 

“How about we have a spot of tea?” Garrett questioned in what quite possibly the world’s worst British accent.  “We can go out to the back porch. I’ve got it all set up for you.”

He literally picked her up by her arms and dropped her on the back porch.  She faced the house and she shook her head at her problem child.

“Sit down, and have some tea. Tell us about your convention,” insisted John. He leaned down towards her and said in a soft whisper, “Felix would like you to sit down and have some tea. Can you do that?”

She turned and then she gasped.  What once had been an unmanageable and unruly jungle, was a small and lovely English garden.   It was a riotous and clashing mixture of blooms, statues…. DUCKLINGS!!!! There was a statue that consisted of a very crooked line of ducklings following their mother.  There were nooks and crannies and assorted sitting areas, begging to be explored and a trellis that would be full of roses. It was HER spot. Her very own spot where she could nurture herself and BABIES….

“What have you three done?” she whispered.  Jemma wiped the tears from her eyes and then began to explore… until she stopped.

“I have a TARDIS!” she happily exclaimed. “I HAVE MY VERY OWN TARDIS!”

* * *

 

“Hey,” Jemma whispered to Felix. It was just the three of them as John and Phil were on assignment.   It was the perfect time to put her nefarious plan into motion.

Felix Blake looked up from where he was sitting and his smile was rather wistful.

“I’m good,” he assured her. “I was just thinking deep thinky thoughts for the last few weeks. You know how I am. I tried really hard **_not_** to think them but I just wanted everything to be perfect for you. Even now, I’m thinking how it could have been better.”

Soft, self-deprecating laugh. 

Jemma sat next to Felix and she leaned towards her salt n’ pepper Eeyore, who she truly adored. “I know. So, let’s do something to help you stop **_thinking_**.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he admitted.

She held out her hand to him and gave him a sideways look.  He looked at her, in **_that_** way, and she blushed. Grasping her hand, he seemed surprised when she didn’t lead him to the bedroom, but instead… **_outside_**.   An arched eyebrow was his only response when she led him to the spot where she planned on some serious baby making.

A very romantic picnic completed with lots of finger foods, a large chaise lounge that two people could easily share. Again, after a thorough examination of his environment did Felix look at her in **_that_** way.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson?” he whispered.

His hands were busy exploring but Jemma had to be bold.  Normally with Felix, she was the blissful beneficiary of his skills. He gave and gave to her, but rarely (ok: NEVER) let her take charge.  While she shouldn’t compare her little salt n’ pepper Eeyore with Tigger (John) and Pooh (Phil), there were times when she felt uncomfortable with the pedestal that Felix had placed her.  It was thrilling to be worshipped and adored, but really, she was fearful of falling.

“Let **_me_** ,” she insisted as she seized his wandering hands. “Let me take care of you. You gave me a TARDIS, Felix. Let me spoil you!”

“I like taking care of you,” Felix insisted. This was the difficult part of her mission, as Felix was all sweetness and sincerity due to his insecurity.  Unlike Phil who appreciated a healthy selfishness and John (hedonism was his middle name), Felix was … Felix.  Leery of being too needy, stubborn in his refusal to admit any physical limitations; he enjoying spoiling her with presents, ‘just because’. Not really; his fear of rejection was intrinsic to who he was and she **_understood_**. His gifts weren’t bribes, not really, they were sincere declarations of ‘Thank you for putting up with me’.

The English garden with the TARDIS shed.  Oh yes, Phil and John had been heavily involved, but Felix had put the plan in motion.

“You take such wonderful care of me. Let me take care of you. I want you to stop thinking and just **_feel_** …” she informed him.

A head tilt was his only response, and she gave him her best whimsical smile.  With a visible effort that was almost physically painful, he gave up control.  To HER. The gesture spoke of his complete trust in her, a nonverbal declaration of how much he **_loved_** her, and her smile faded.

“I’ve made you unhappy,” he murmured. The emotional walls were going up right in front of her and she needed to stop them from being built.

“No, no, **_no_**. You dear sweet man, you’ve made me very, very happy.  So incredibly happy,” she protested.

“Then why are you crying?” Gently, lovingly, he wiped away her tears.

“Happy tears. I will take such good care of you.” Tiptoes were required in order to give him a proper snog, so she launched her attack. When they needed air and had to part, she smiled even as she caressed his face. “If you recline on the lounge it will be easier for me. I won’t have to climb you like a tree.”

An arched eyebrow was his response, combined with a soft look in his eyes that was reserved only for her.

He **_loved_** her.

He might not ever be able to voice it, but when he looked at her like that, there was no doubt.

“Please,” she repeated. “I have such delightful plans.”

Which included a baby.

* * *

 

Felix gave up complete control to Jemma.  It took a herculean effort, but his reward was Jemma’s obvious delight.

She snuggled next to him on the lounge chair and insisted on hand feeding him.  Oysters interspersed with sips of a gamay from Domaine des Marransa peppered with delightful nibbles from Jemma.  His seduction was… leisurely… and extremely erotic …

“I hope you left room for afters,” Jemma murmured.

“Best part of the meal,” was his soft rejoinder. 

When he realized that she was unbuttoning his trousers, he kissed her…. Passionately. Well, it was attempted, but she placed her hands on his face… gently… and guided him so that he was once again lying supine.

“None of that… close your eyes… I told you that I was taking care of you tonight. Are you comfortable?”

“I have a slight tension…” was what he attempted to say.  Instead, he inhaled when he felt her kiss him… **_there_**.  “Jemma… you minx!”

She teased him until he was on the very edge.  

“Time for the best part,” she reminded him.

“Top,” he whispered. “Tonight… top… _please_ …”

It was the rarest gift of Felix's utter vulnerability, and Jemma was overwhelmed.  “We don’t have to.”

“Make up your mind,” Felix teased.  “And **_quickly_**.”

* * *

 

In the afterglow, Felix stroked her back. “You seem quite pleased with yourself,” he rumbled.

“Guilty,” Jemma admitted. Really, she was quite knackered and she was so close to falling asleep.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered.

Jemma did, and she dreamed of a far too serious little girl with dark hair and light eyes.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, her normally steady as clockwork period was noticeable in its absence, and she decided it was time to visit Felix for a serious chat.

“I’m playing hooky for the rest of the afternoon,” she informed Fitz.

“ ** _Slacker_** ,” he retorted.

Feeling the need to be childish, she stuck her tongue out at him and Fitz waved at her. “Off with you. You’re so distracted today that you’re no good to me.”

To her surprise, Felix Blake was in a very good mood when she arrived at his office.  She gave him a kiss and he swung her into his embrace.  She laughed and he began to slow dance with her.

“We need to practice, as I want several dances with you at the Wedding,” he reminded her.

His hand was possessively placed just so on her waist and she smiled. “Felix,” she began and then stopped.

“Yes?”

“I enjoy when we have sex,” she continued, even though she was blushing. “Especially that afternoon in the garden.”

“So do I,” he admitted. “And that afternoon was amazing. You took such good care of me. I should let you do it more often.”

“Yes, you should! I **_really_** enjoy when we have sex,” she stressed and he smiled one of his rare wondrous smiles.  “I was just wondering… if I should fall pregnant by you, would you still wish to have sex to me even when I’m… huge…”

“No,” he whispered. “I’d want to make love to you, slowly and leisurely. And if you fell pregnant by Phil or John, I’d still hope that you’d share my bed. If you were interested and felt… ** _inclined_** …”

“Inclined?” she repeated.

“I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated.” At her look of disapproval, he continued, “I’d want to, but if you’re not feeling…. Interested…  I’d understand.  Because you’d need to focus on taking care of yourself.”

“And what about my harem?  Don’t you think I’d need to take care of my harem, especially my Athos?” she asked. “Porthos and Aramis aren’t as difficult as you.”

“I try to be low maintenance,” he protested.

“You still think I don’t care for you as much as I do the others,” she murmured. “There’s only one way I fear I will ever convince you…”

“You don’t need to get a tattoo of my name,” Felix assured her, a feeble attempt at deflecting her.

She laughed and leaned towards him. He stopped dancing.

“I fear how I will react,” he admitted. “I might get…. Odder… I’d worry so much that I could become… difficult… You would lose your patience with me, and I would not… I…. it would be devastating to me. Especially if you and I had…”

He wiggled his fingers.

“You think …” she couldn’t find the energy to protest as she only had herself to blame. She KNEW how Felix was.

“Everyone else loses their patience with me. Phil and John have…. I think it’s best if I’m just the crazy uncle. If you and I… if I had upset you with my Flakey Blakiness…”

“I hate when you use that term,” she protest.

“My Flakey Blakiness,” he repeated.  “During a time you really needed to be able to rely on me, for a time when you needed me to have my head screwed on straight,  I…. I’d be so angry with myself. Angrier than I have ever been, and I’ve been pretty furious with me. I don’t want to fail you. I don’t want to pull a Nicolette.”

“You wouldn’t,” she stated.

“I don’t want to be like my parents,” he admitted, which just proved how far they had come in their odd little relationship.

“No, you won’t be…” she insisted.

“You think the best of me,” he murmured. “I am just the luckiest man ever that you decided to put up with me.”

She embraced him and he hesitated only a brief moment before he hugged her. Tightly.

“I’m glad you understand. I always worry so much and you listen to me and you’re just so compassionate. We had a difficult start because of me and my myriad of issues, and … I don’t want to fracture our friendship. So why did you stop by my office?” He asked.

_I wanted to tell you how on that beautiful afternoon, you and I may have created a child.  I thought you’d be happy. That you’d be finally reassured how deeply I care for you. I wanted you to sit next to me while I waited for the results, and I wanted you to be happy, either way._

“I wanted a hug that only Felix Blake could give me,” she teased.

“No, I don’t think that’s the reason.  I think you wanted reassurance about your Harem. Trust me, John and Phil would find you incredibly sexy and you’d have to keep a night night gun in your drawer to keep us out of your bed.  So, I need to finish painting that little room then?”

She nodded.

“Did you talk to John or Phil yet?” Felix gently asked.

She shook her head and he smiled.

“You came to me first? Wow.”

And Felix smiled again. 

“Felix,” she protested.

“It means a lot to me, Jemma. That you were comfortable talking to me about your fears and concerns and I hope I’ve reassured you. Now, you just tell me when to hang back,” he requested. “Or maybe I could go away for a few days and take John on a bike ride.  Phil’s an adult and with John, you’d have two kids. Figure out your calendar and just let me know.”

He hugged her again and kissed her on her cheek. “You’ll be an absolutely amazing mum. Have you eaten lunch? You look pale, so I think you didn’t.”

“I haven’t,” she admitted.

“There’s a new Indian place. They say it’s very good, shall we?” Felix asked.

* * *

 

During his lunch with Jemma, when she went to the ladies’ room, he pulled up his personal calendar and cross checked some dates for a possible date for his roadtrip with John based on the little he knew about Jemma’s personal schedule.  But something wasn’t adding up, because she should have…. last week… and her schedule (The little he knew of it) was twenty nine days, so he counted.

And counted again.

Recounted and then he carefully and deliberately counted fourteen days after her last period started.  John and Phil had been in DC, and … there had been the afternoon…. In the garden.

_“I enjoy when we have sex,” she continued, even though she was blushing. “Especially that afternoon in the garden.”_

_“So do I,” he admitted. “And that afternoon was amazing. You took such good care of me. I should let you do it more often.”_

_“Yes, you should! I **really** enjoy when we have sex,” she stressed and he smiled one of his rare wondrous smiles.  “I was just wondering… if I should fall pregnant by you, would you still wish to have sex to me even when I’m… huge…”_

Fuckity, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck fuck. She had been trying to tell him and… he had told her how much he feared being a father.

He called his office, informed Skye that he was taking off for the rest of the afternoon and he waited for Jemma to return. She returned, and he stood in order to help her with her coat.

“Do you think you can play hooky for the afternoon?” Felix asked. “I’d like to spend some time with you.”

Her smile brightened her pale face, but it didn’t hide the sadness in her eyes.

* * *

 

The three of them walked in the park, even Winston picked up on the fact that Jemma was being far too quiet, when Felix decided he needed to address the issue. Her coat was open, so he had ceased walking. When she stopped, he deliberately put his hand over her waist.

“When I start talking stupid, you need to tell me to shut the fuck up,” he softly explained. His voice was shaky as he struggled to give voice to what he felt. “Jemma Elizabeth Simmons, are we having a… baby?”

 


	2. 2

The three of them walked in the park, even Winston picked up on the fact that Jemma was being far too quiet, when Felix decided he needed to address the issue. Her coat was open, so he had ceased walking. When she stopped, he deliberately put his hand over her waist.

“When I start talking stupid, you need to tell me to shut the fuck up,” he softly explained. His voice was shaky as he struggled to give voice to what he felt. “Jemma Elizabeth Simmons, are we having a… baby?”

Jemma was many things; she was brilliant, gorgeous, one hell of a lover, but she **_was_** an open book to someone trained in assessing suspects. Guileless and expressive, he knew her answer of **_‘I fear that I am, but you don’t want this_** ’ before she could bring herself to answer. He smiled at her; hoped that she’s be reassured with his response.  Instead, it seemed to confuse her.

She turned away from him, wounding him to his very core because … she didn’t trust him…. NO… NO… he had to ignore that little singsong voice that constantly mocked him with the knowledge he wasn’t good enough for a woman like Jemma. That he didn’t deserve her, and that she only took him on as part and parcel of the Coulson & Garrett show because she was a kind and compassionate soul.

Because she pitied him.

To hell with his pride, he pleaded his case, “Jemma, I’m **_thrilled_**. I **_am_**. Please, believe me.”

“You told me that you didn’t want to be a father,” Jemma reminded him.

“I never said that; I DID admit that I am scared to death that I’ll flake out on you,” Felix confessed. “That I’ll be my mother’s son in truth.”

That soft confession startled Jemma, as Felix never mentioned his mother, solo.  Sometimes he made a passing reference to his father, rarely if ever, did he mention PARENTS. As for his mother, there had only been the one comment thanks to a board game that they had played to improve their communication.

“Not possible for you,” Jemma staunchly informed him.  She turned towards him, and decided that she needed a hug. They embraced, and her eldest child, Winston, leaned on her leg so he was included in his parents’ embrace.

“I’ve run for the hills,” he reminded her.

“In your defense, you ran in fear of your life. I did try to hit you with a fire extinguisher though I plead a high fever. You also came back to rescue me from Hydra Boy,” she protested.

“We have to be honest, that wasn’t the true reason why I left.”     

Instead of letting her voice speak, Jemma concentrated on her embrace because she felt how Felix was edgy and tense. She merely held him until she felt his tension ease.  It was safe to speak when Felix kissed the top of her head.

“You left because you needed to focus on your mental health. You felt overwhelmed and I will **_never_** fault you for needing a walkabout for your mental health as long as you come back to me. No matter how long you need, I will always give you my permission for you to take care of yourself.”

Nothing was said, but she **_loved_** Felix, had read copious amounts on Post Traumatic Stress and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and she was beginning to comprehend how it utterly flavored his interactions with the world.

“I’ll even give you a signed permission slip,” she assured her silver fox.

A physical retreat was his response, so instead of releasing him, she moved with him.  Her embrace was continued because Felix needed reassurance.

“I don’t want to ever do that to you again,” he protested.

“I know you don’t, but if you ever need that walkabout, take it,” Jemma informed him.  Pulling away from him only slightly, she placed her hand on his cheek. “You are very important to me. I need you healthy.”

His chuckle surprised her.

“I need **_you_** healthy,” was his soft retort. “ ** _Both_** of **_you_**. So, how do we confirm? **_Today_**?”

“We can stop at the chemist…”  At his quirked eyebrow, she sighed. “ ** _Pharmacy_**. You Americans have this obscene need to bugger with the English language.”

“Please, it’s the only way you win at Wordwile. However, we’ll stop at the ... **_Chemist_** , pick up a few EPTs and go from there. I’ll call the troops in?” Felix asked.  He reached for his phone, but Jemma shook her head.

“For this, just **_us_**. I’m pretty sure that you did the honors,” she murmured. “I think it should be the three of us, and then we can tell them either way.”

“I don’t mind sharing this with them.”

“Do you need them for support?” Jemma gently questioned. “Because I want this experience to be with **_you_** ; not your reaction being overshadowed by John and Phil. I chose you, because I had this lovely daydream…”

“Daydream?” he asked as he tilted his head.

“Lovely daydream, of having tea in my new garden.  I was wearing a silly hat, as was Winston… plus there was this little girl with your eyes. She was far too serious for such a little girl, especially when she dealt with her exasperating little brothers but sometimes, she let loose this giggle. Well, actually there’s one annoying little brother.”

Felix Blake smiled, complete with dimples, which meant he was well and truly chuffed.  “I think I know who the dad of the incorrigible one is. So, a girl?”

Jemma nodded.

“Let’s go to the chemist,” requested Felix.

* * *

 

Counting backwards from one thousand failed to calm an increasingly unraveling Felix as he stared at the aisle.  Seriously, so many pregnancy tests, none of which were completely 100.00000 % accurate according to StarkSearch.   His nerves were in a state of perpetual alarming as there were blue smocked employees who took obscene pleasure in leaping out from behind the displays of PreNatal Vitamins to loudly chirp, “DO YOU NEED ANY HELP?” They focused on Jemma, thankfully, but Felix noticed a few of them had pegged him as “GRANDPA”.

The decision made, Jemma decided and picked out two.  Felix took two of the same brand off the shelf and Jemma merrily giggled.

“Q-q-quality control,” he stuttered.

“I love you so much,” she loudly announced in front of the flock of blue smocked employees.  That pronouncement made, she stood on her tippy toes and kissed him.  “I love my silver fox who is the father of my baby.”

That bomb dropped, leaving a gaggle of stunned, pimply faced employees in its wake, Jemma then grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the cashier.

* * *

 

All four tests had been utilized, lined up neatly on the counter, and the results all unequivocally displayed that she was quite positively up the duff.  While Jemma was beyond thrilled, Felix had retreated. He sat on the clothes hamper and Winston was being stroked for reassurance

“Hey,” Jemma whispered.

Her voice interrupted his internal monologue and he smiled at her.  That smile, which meant he was feeling frisky, which promised clothing would be optional shortly.

“I’ll clean up the counter first,” she decided.

“Leave one out,” Felix suggested.  “That way Phil or John can find it when they come home.”

* * *

 

They made love slowly and leisurely, and in the afterglow, Jemma was content to rest her head on Felix’s chest. Sated, content and utterly relaxed, Jemma knew she would be asleep before far too long.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Her heart skipped a beat or three as it was the first time Felix had ever said those three little words to her. Those small, yet oh so important words that she feared that he would never be able to voice.  Struggling to sit up, Jemma was gently held down by Felix.

“Go to sleep. You two need you to sleep,” he whispered. “I do love you.  I know I don’t say it, but I do. You’ve made me so incredibly happy.”’

“Are you happy with this?”

Immediately, regret flooded her soul.  She shouldn’t have asked Felix that painful question. He’d gorge on her fear and spiral into self-doubt.

“I am close to exploding from overwhelming happiness,” Felix assured her. “Don’t doubt me, please.”

In a very soft voice, almost too low to be heard, Felix added, “I couldn’t cope if you doubted me.”

“I’m not doubting you, Felix. It’s just a great deal of adjustment. I’m feeling … scared,” Jemma admitted.  “This is a big change in our lives, and I need reassurance.”

Her confession voiced, Jemma was carefully rolled onto her side.

“Are you scared that I’ll flake out?” a very sincere Felix asked. “You’ll have Phil and John to help.”

“It’s not you, it’s me. I mean, sex is extremely important in our relationship. I mean, soon… I’ll be… will you still be interested?”

Felix’s reassurance was physical, not verbal. He kissed her slowly and carefully even as his hands began to coax a response from her.

* * *

 

“Phil!” John called. “Conference. Bathroom.”

A grimace was Phil’s immediate response. Really, John was fifty years old and then some, why did he have to regress back to childhood at every single opportunity.

“Seriously? Plunger’s in the closet,” he protested. “You need to add more fiber to your diet.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” was John’s response.

“The plumbing snake is in the garage,” Phil continued as he opened the refrigerator.  Since it was his turn to make dinner, he began pulling out assorted items.  “John, for the ninety eighth time, unripened tomatoes do not go in refrigerator.”

Really, why did they let John put away groceries?  He could barely handle food shopping even with a detailed list.

With a puff of brimstone, ok, aftershave; the Whirling Dervish known as John Garrett made his appearance. He was held a little stick in his hand and he waved it at Phil.  The sheer level of his exuberance made Phil Coulson groan.

“Look! Look!” John exclaimed as he pushed the stick towards Phil.  “Jemma’s pregnant.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked even as he examined the stick.

“Skye’s not here. Jemma and Felix played hooky this afternoon from work. Jemma’s preggers and Felix’s the father,” surmised John.

To hell with his dreams of a neatly organized refrigerator, Phil threw the items for supper back into the drawers.  Thanks to his youth (compared to John), and stealth, he beat John to the bedroom door.

“Should we knock?” Phil asked.

“Can we join them is the bigger question,” leered John even as he opened the door.

No illicit examples of conjugal aerobics awaited them.  A sprawled Jemma was lying face down on the bed, and she appeared to be the very epitome of debauched womanhood.  She was clad in nothing more than sheets and she was rocking the serious Bed head Hair of a woman that had been thoroughly shagged. However, she was sniffling.  There was no Felix to be found, and John and Phil wordlessly gestured at each other.

Naturally, being Alpha Males and overly concerned, they gave each other conflicting instructions. They glared at each and gestured once more.

“Seriously, you think you can handle Felix?” Phil mouthed.

“Jemma needs you, so go, go, go.”

* * *

 

There had been a noticeable vacancy in the bed when Jemma finally woke.  Felix’s absence had taken a moment or so to recognize as she had required a long, luxurious stretch as Felix had been just so sweetly attentive.   When her questing hand failed to find him, she sat up in the bed and realized that Felix had done a bunk. 

She heard his voice outside the bedroom so she wrapped herself in a sheet and headed towards his voice.  Felix was located in the hallway that led to his music room and he paced the floor.

“I need an appointment. When can I see you?” Felix questioned. “Jemma’s pregnant and I need my head screwed on straight for this. I already bought a half dozen self-help books that are being overnight shipped, so I’ll bring them with me.”

Long pause.

“I’m fucking scared. So fucking scared that I’ll fuck this up. She’s depending on me not to flake out, and I feel like I’m close to having a Blake out of major proportions. I know we discussed me going on the meds…maybe we should look back into it. I’m just terrified…. No… no… I haven’t told her any of this because she doesn’t need any stress because of me. She asked me if I was happy because she’s doubting me. I mean, with very good reason, with my track record?”

Another long pause.

“Yes, I’m a fucking idiot. I know that. See you tomorrow night. Thank you for squeezing me in.”

The phone was disconnected and then Felix inhaled. A long slow inhalation, and then he held his breath before a long, slow exhalation.  He repeated the breathing exercise while Jemma watched.

She fled, back to the safety of their bedroom, as she was hormonal and needed a good cry. 

_I wanted this to bring us closer together._

When Phil embraced her, her sniffles turned into true tears.

 


	3. Chapter 3

John Garrett girded his loins, or some shit like that, and went forth to do battle with the Enemy, that being Felix Blake’s assorted mental demons of various shapes and irregular sizes. Jemma, in _tears_ , because Blake was having a Blake Out was completely John’s fault. **_Pregnant_** Jemma in **_TEARS_** , due to his brilliant idea.

He was the idiot that suggested to Jemma to take Felix by the hand, seduce Blake until his brains dribbled outta both his ears and then hand him his baby in nine months. Well, in his defense, it was the tried and true method on how he normally dealt with Felix. Except for the baby bit. And really, maybe not so much baby making mechanics, as they were both older men.

Really? How did he manage Felix?  Probably he outtalked Felix into complete submission. 

Being the adult survivor of a traumatic childhood, John understood why Phil believed that he should be the one that dealt with Blake in his current condition and how it would have been gasoline on a BBQ pit. In Felix’s eyes (and John’s too!) Phil was an optimistic Pollyanna. He had a loving father and mother, and naturally, he couldn’t truly understand why Felix was Blaking out.

No, best be John that dealt with Felix’s mental demons. A few of them looked like they were closely related to his own, after all.

Garrett knew that most people couldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of his relationship with Blake. He was loud, obnoxious and generally thought of as not being particularly bright. Felix was viewed as a stick in mud, abrasive and blessed with a caustic sense of humor that could be used as battery acid.

The pundits at work, had nicknamed them the Odd Couple as Felix was Felix, and he was Oscar Madison. In public, and not so public, they scrapped, they snarled, and on occasion, they had even simpered at each other (much to the stunned disbelief of Maria Hill) but their public personas hid a surprisingly deep bond. Little did the wits know; Felix and Oscar were friends, yes, but more than that, they were brothers in arms and they were lovers.

And John Garrett owed Felix Blake his life after John had been left for collateral damage after being fragged in Sarajevo.

Felix had bucked the system and had gotten him the fuck outta hell. God knows where John would be right now if Felix hadn’t gotten involved. Taking a dirt nap, most likely, or maybe indoctrinated into being a card-carrying member of HYDRA as he had been that hurt over SHIELD’s betrayal. Though the HYDRA salute made the flunkies look like a bunch of Texas Cheerleaders. Rah rah rah.

Rule number one, John Garrett paid his debts. As Felix had saved his life and his soul, so John Garrett was responsible for ensuring that Felix Blake, not only lived a life (see climbing into collapsed building), but that it was a life worth living.

Corollary to rule number one, payback on a life debt was in John’s own unique fashion, naturally.

So while Felix Blake would have been content with a life full of quiet contemplation of data, paint blistering black coffee and Winston, Felix deserved more. And John Garrett had worked goddamn hard to give it to him, and he was goddamned if he was gonna let Felix’s mental demons destroy his hard earned work.

Plus there was a baby involved now, and really, he was counting on Felix taking over John’s share of diaper duty. He found Blake in the hallway; Felix’s eyes were wide and he was noticeably failing at his deep breathing exercises. Winston was busy being adorable, but Felix wasn’t seeing his Service Dog.

Shit. Felix was in a bad way, but fortunately not in the ‘Let’s Drug Felix so We Can Get his Guns so He Can’t Harm Himself’ way.

Well, this situation called for more than a snarky comment. No, instead, it was time for a shock and awe attack. Hardened criminals had collapsed in terror when John shocked and awed them.

John Garrett opened his arms and embraced a Felix Blake who was close to vibrating out of his own skin.

It was a snug embrace; tight enough to break his ribs, almost. The shrinks had called it Deep pressure therapy. John was never sure why it worked on Felix, considering he was a walking case of claustrophobia, but John readily admitted that he was the dumb one of the Harem. He had been hired solely to lift heavy objects and work on the cars.

After a few minutes of Garrett Tuff Luv, Felix was finally taking long deep breaths. A few more minutes, he was able to voice a soft confession, “I’m so fucking scared,” and then he relaxed.

Only after he admitted his concern was he was released from Sherriff John’s custody. Felix exhaled a long deep breath and then inhaled.

“Congratulations, you dumb fuck,” John offered his sincerest compliments.

“Jemma’s still sleeping?” Felix questioned.

“Yes,” John lied.

“Thank God. I got… Blakey…. And I couldn’t let her see me like that… not now. You’ll help me keep it together, won’t you?” Felix’s earnest plea was painful. “Phil… he doesn’t get it. He had a father he loved and respected. He has a role model. You and I…. we **_don’t_**. She should have picked Phil to be the father. I mean, he’s everything I’m not.”

“Make an appointment with your shrink,” recommended John.

“I already have,” admitted Felix. “Tomorrow night.”

“Tell Jemma,” was John’s next bit of sage advice.

“I don’t want her to think I can’t handle this,” Felix explained.

“Just a hint, Pookie, you’re **_not_** handling it well.” John pouted and tilted his head. “It’s ok, ask for help. You can tell Jemma that you’re talking to your shrink. Pumpkin, you run out every Tuesday night to talk to your shrink, she’ll think you’re having an affair.”

“She’ll think I’m avoiding Taco Tuesday….” Felix then tried to laugh but failed. He shook his head, before he questioned, “What if I really fuck this up? What if those **_thoughts_** take over my life? What if she really **_needs_** me to be **_here_** , to be **_present_** , and I’m **_trapped_** in my thoughts.”

“I’ll slap you,” John informed Felix. “ ** _Repeatedly_**.”

Felix stared at John Garrett. His façade was cracking, as he was close to laughing. John was glad to see that Felix was off the mental edge and close to being as centered as he could be. “You’re an **_asshole_**!”

“That I am!” easily admitted John Garrett.  

“Why do I put up with him?” Felix asked the uncaring world.

“Because nobody else will!”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jemma stopped sobbing and Phil mentally exhaled his relief, because he hated the rare moments when Jemma wept.  His hatred of such events, was not just because he hated witnessing Jemma’s tears (true!) but was also due to his uncertainty on how to console her. Tony Stark in a drunken tantrum, no problem, Bruce Banner looking a tad green, easy; Aliens with Daddy issues, slightly harder! HOWEVER, Jemma with big tears spilling from her face… **_PROBLEM_**.

He and the two men had hammered out what they jokingly called, “The Accords of Jemma’s Boy Band,” and rule # 1 was…. RESPECT the RELATIONSHIP.  It was a simple rule.

_Thou shalt not stick thy nose into Jemma’s relationship with thy brother._

Rule # 2 had been a hashing out of Bed Rules and whether or not Winston would be permitted to sleep in the bed in the afterglow of Frisky Friday Foursome Night.  Verdict – Winston could make his own decision.  This rule require more edification and definition than rule #1 as it was far more than who got to share the bed with Jemma on which night and which night was a threesome and Friday Foursome Fun Night.

 _Thou shalt sleep in the wet spot if you made it_.

_Thou shalt wear your Breathe Right Nasal Strips without fail._

_After Taco Tuesday, thou shalt brush thy teeth before you doth kiss anyone._

_If Jemma doth feel Frisky, and Woman enough to Handle Us All, then the Bed Assignment Rule doth go out the window._

“You look horrible,” Phil gently informed her even while he hoped that she wouldn’t start crying once more. “We can’t let Felix see you like this as it will greatly upset him.”

_Well, that didn’t break the first rule. Really._

“I don’t look _horrible_ , I look _hormonal_ ,” Jemma informed him. “I hope I’m not like this for the next eight months.”

“What caused the tears?” was his gentle prompt.

 _Well, John was rubbing off on him, as rules were made to be broken_. _Only because he cared, you understood._

“I fear Felix is having a meltdown,” she admitted. “I hoped this would be a good thing for us both, for all of us, but he’s freaking out.”

“He is…” Phil chuckled then stopped when he saw that Jemma was pouting. “Jemma, I’d be freaking if I was him.  In fact, I’m a bit verklempt right now and I’m just the uncle. To his credit, he’s come a long way as he didn’t immediately run for the hills. No, he called his therapist so he could work on his issues. That’s a big step for our boy Felix. You have to admit it. And yes, this is a very good thing.”

Jemma nodded as Phil was quite correct.

“Points will be deducted as he didn’t tell you that he was calling his therapist, but only a few. Now, go take a shower and grab one of Felix’s T-shirts as your first maternity shirt. It will mean a great deal that you swiped his shirt. Perhaps, grab one of his Indian motorcycle shirts.”

“I know just the one,” Jemma agreed.  It was a faded red, tattered and yet oh so soft. Plus it intrinsically smelled of Felix: his cologne, his cigarettes that he still snuck when he was stressed. “It’s his **_favorite_**.”

“Well, yes, so that’s why you need to swipe it.” It didn’t make sense to her, but Phil added, “Trust me, I’d be so chuffed when if I saw you wearing my Captain America T-shirt as a maternity shirt.”

“Stop trying to speak proper English. Wait… if you are here with me… who’s with Felix? Skye? Not **_John_**.”

“John and Felix are brothers of another mother, they just show it by snarking at each other. Plus if you go take a shower, I’ll be able to make sure the boys behave.” Phil motioned her to the shower.

“Hurry,” Jemma protested.

* * *

 

Felix Blake was looking a bit wild-eyed, but calmer than Phil anticipated that Felix would be.  But the dazed smile was a  very good sign, Phil believed.

“Congrats,” Phil stated. He roughly hugged Felix and then messed up his hair. “I knew those step by step instructions complete with diagrams would come in useful.”

“Asshole!” Felix growled.  Then he turned serious. “Well, she hasn’t gone to the doctors and gotten the blood test. So, it’s not **_official_**. Is she still sleeping?”

“Taking a shower,” Phil explained.  “I’ll make dinner but first, I’ll pull a bottle of champagne.”

Felix looked uncertain, and then bit his lip. With a noticeable effort, he kept his mouth shut.

“Good boy,” John complimented Felix.  His congratulations included a pat on Felix’s head which earned him a swat from Felix. “Jemma makes the decisions on what she can do and can’t do now.  A small sip should be fine.”

“I hope she doesn’t ride her trike off the property,” Felix admitted. “Can I admit that?”

“To us,” Phil commiserated. “Remember, she is far smarter than we are.”

“Combined,” offered John.

“Some of us don’t add much to the sum.”

 John Garrett’s mouth dropped in an expressive O when he realized who Felix meant.

“I’ll greet Jemma with a nice warm towel when she exits the shower,” offered John. “Because everyone else got to congratulate her except for me. Even someone like me who doesn’t add much to the collective IQ of our boy band can be useful.”

The Tasmanian Devil left and Phil began pulling items from the fridge.  Felix sat on one of the barstools at the breakfast bar and shook his head in tired exasperation. “Did John put the tomatoes away? They’re not supposed to be in the fridge.”

Phil made a noncommittal sound before he began prepping for dinner.

“How are you processing everything?” Phil asked. “How are you”

“I’m…  I’m…. Felix….” That was Felix’s quiet response. Phil continued chopping with a professional ease, and finally Felix continued. “Which means, I’m thrilled, I’m terrified… I’m… disappointed…”

“Disappointed?”  Phil asked, even as he stopped chopping. “I’m wasn’t anticipating that emotion.”

“The minx knew exactly what was occurring when she seduced me.  I wish she had told me… I would have liked it have been… more enjoyable for her. I mean it should have been better for her; she’s got thirty odd weeks of increasing discomfort ahead of her...” Felix grew flustered as he realized his sweet sincerity was absolutely fucked by his OCD.

Phil couldn’t help himself, he chuckled. “I’ve never heard pregnancy described that way.”

“It’s the truth, Phil. I would have attempted to give her a least one eye rolling back in her head orgasm. Hell, I would have tried for two. Maybe asked John if we could use some of their toys that she seems to enjoy.”

* * *

 

Jemma exited the shower to discover John was in the room. He held out a bath sheet and then wrapped her into it.

It was **_heated_** … so she was toasty warm.  Just another example of how the John Garrett she intimately knew was far different than the John Garrett façade the world believed to be the real John.

“Congratulations,” he said before he wrapped his arms around her and gently lifted her off the floor for a proper kiss.

“You won’t be able to do that soon,” she protested.

“I think I will,” he disagreed as he kissed her once more to prove this point. “And Felix is good.  Got a little rattled but … he’s good with this. Actually, more than good, he looks a little dazed and… **_happy_**. He reminds me of the old Blake.”

Jemma stopped smiling as well, for her the Old Blake meant Felix Blake back when he was Engaged to that Unworthy Woman, Back before the Building had Fallen Upon Him, Leaving him Scarred.

“Oh,” John realized that he had quite put his size thirteen shoes in a big pile of poop and had tracked it through miles upon miles of formerly white carpet.  “By that I meant that he reminded me of the young Blake. Before he met Nikki, back when he was almost much as fun as me. It was so long ago that he had black hair, not even a smidgeon of grey. You probably weren’t even born yet back when he was **_fun_**.”

Jemma pouted and looked at her problem child.

“Yeah, probably I should keep my mouth shut, but life would be so much quieter then. So why don’t you get dressed, but leave the bra off. We’ll just fight over who takes it off you later, so why bother?” John grinned his wild smile.  “I predict that you will be worshipped tonight.”

Jemma smiled and the entirely too perspective John placed her back on terra firma. Or in this case, the bathroom floor.

“Tell your body image issues to go to hell from me.  Trust me, you’ve got three men who are enthralled with you, so you’ll plead sexual exhaustion soon. Get dressed.”

* * *

 

After John had thoroughly towel dried her, they made their way down to the kitchen where she eavesdropped Phil and Felix having a serious discussion.  Her sweetly sincere Felix was being… **_earnest_** about how he wished he had done more for her.   

“It’s the truth, Phil. I would have attempted to give her a least one eye rolling back in her head orgasm. Hell, I would have tried for two. Maybe asked John if we could use some of their toys that she seems to enjoy.”

“Well, after the first orgasm, it took me almost fifteen minutes to string words into sentences,” Jemma cheerfully informed Felix. “And the second one… well… it took me an hour.”

And Felix Blake blushed.

“And John, did you tell them about…” Jemma thwacked John who mock protested that she had hurt him.

“He **_bragged_** , actually,” Felix offered which earned John another thwack.

“Since I don’t have a high IQ, I need to be proud of my victories?” offered John which caused Phil to threaten to launch a tomato at him.

“Why don’t you two go outside, spend some quality time and we’ll join you?” Phil prompted which earned murmured agreements from Felix and Jemma.

Felix held out his hand to Jemma and she grasped it. He then tilted his head and looked at her. “You’re wearing my t-shirt.”

She waited to speak until they reached her English garden.

“I figured it would be my first maternity shirt,” she hesitantly offered, as she couldn’t comprehend why Felix would be thrilled by her staking a claim on his favorite t-shirt. Nervously, she tucked one rebellious strand of her hair behind her ear.  “You don’t mind, do you? It’s very comfortable.”

Felix’s response was a very shy smile. “You look adorable as you’re swimming in it.”

“Not for long,” she confessed.

* * *

 

The idea that Jemma had grabbed one of his ratty old t-shirts as her first maternity shirt for THEIR baby had profoundly affected him. It was ridiculously large on her, but he wondered what she would look like as their child … **_their_** baby… grew in the upcoming months.

“You look adorable as you’re swimming in it,” Felix offered that as Jemma seemed uncertain.

“Not for long,” she confessed.

 “I’ve got a good nine inches on you,” he began but he felt his ears burn when she giggled. “I said ON you. And I outweigh you…”

“Not by much, as l love when you top,” she added.  In response to her carnal witticism, Felix was flustered and in danger of floundering, so Jemma took pity on him.  “Sorry, it’s my hormones.”

Somehow he thought hormones would be the blame for everything in the next few months.

“So the shirt will fit,” he reminded her.

“I might stretch it.” She pulled the shirt out to approximate her being nine months gone, and he feared that he’d explode from happiness… and overwhelming **_fear_** …

“Stretch it. I made an appointment with Andy,” he informed her. “I hope you’re ok with that?”

Andy was Andrew Gardner, as Felix had transferred to him after Dum Dum had suggested (Ok, demanded) that a new therapist would be beneficial with his married life as Dum Dum was a confirmed bachelor.  Didn’t mean that Felix never called Dum Dum, but now it was for a friendly chat.

“I am happy, but I want to be on an even keel for you,” Felix explained.  “Do you want me to get you a jacket? It’s windy.”

There was perhaps a slight southwesterly wind on a seventy degree day which meant that he was being an overly protective idiot. God, he had to be careful, because he couldn’t let his fears overwhelm him into trying to protect… **_control_** … Jemma… because he was already thinking of buildings…

Buildings **_collapsing_** …   Jemma and the baby... **_trapped_**... 

Jemma took pity on him, and kissed him.

“I’m fine,” Jemma assured him.  “With you talking to Andy and I don’t need a jacket. I’d like to snuggle on the settee so we can talk? So, I don’t want to tell everyone, not just yet. ”

* * *

 

John watched Jemma and Felix (And Winston too!) make themselves comfortable on the settee. 

“Timing is a little suspect,” he murmured to Phil. “Not that I’m saying Jemma did it intentionally but timing is a little suspect.”

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, as he carefully plated dinner.

“The Wedding is in two months.”

The Wedding was Jasper and Nikki’s wedding where Felix was part of the bridal party.

“Did we ever take our relationship **_official_**?”  John questioned Phil. “We discussed throwing a party, but we never did.  I mean, it will soon be obvious that Jemma’s pregnant, and … her coming out party, dragging us all out of our cozy closet, will be at Felix’s ex’s wedding.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning hint of non-con, drugs - nothing more

On the same day that Jemma received her blood confirmation that she was in a family way, Skye received her green envelope announcing her prospective suitors.  It put a slight damper on his family’s mood, Felix noticed. Not for him, because that meant he wouldn’t be responsible to keep both eyes on her. Just to make sure trouble didn’t find her, you understood.  John and Phil acted as though they were losing a family member, their best buddy, their cohort in crime.

Felix was more pragmatic.  He was losing a financial dependent, so he could focus his attention on Jemma and the baby. 

Didn’t mean that he wouldn’t keep an eye on Mary Sue/Skye/Daisy/Krissy/Petunia/Hermoine, she of the multiple aliases, fictitious personas and the recovering credit score. She’d just become a lesser rather than greater responsibility.  After all, Felix Blake was only human, with an overclocked mind that twirled and whirled at obscene rates of speeds.  He couldn’t keep an eye on Jemma, Phil, John (both eyes there, buddy), Winston and the baby plus… Mary Sue.

Something had to give, after all.

“Don’t worry, we’ll chaperone your dates,” John assured Skye, who was staring morosely at her letter detailing who she was to meet and when.

“We **_will_**?” Phil and Felix both chorused.

“Naturally.” Jemma decided, which meant that they, as her dutiful minions, would do so, GLADLY.  “Now that I’m pregnant, I’ll have to live vicariously through you, Skye. I’ll want all the details.”

John barked a laugh while Felix shook his head.

“I just want to make sure that you’re safe,” Jemma explained.

* * *

 

Felix refused to be any part of the meet n’ greet plus postdating period, because he remembered the last time. (See Jemma, fainting spells X2, Hydra Boy Ward, traction, hospitalizations, electrocutions… etc). That left Phil and John to be the Enforcers and Felix home with Jemma.  Not that Felix didn’t care what happened to Mary Sue, but now, more than even, he needed to focus on Jemma.

Completely and utterly.

He had just hesistantly begun to sound Jemma out about possibly having a therapy session with Andy and himself, because he really wanted his head screwed on straight, when they were interrupted by Mary Sue and the boys.  All eager and excited about her possible suitors. So Jemma wished all the details.

Naturally.

Felix just exhaled and put his needs on the backburner.  Least he wouldn’t be expected to babysit Mary Sue and her prospective matches.

Nope. John had signed up to meet Danny boy.

-=-=

Danny gave Skye a big, bright smile but his smile faltered and faded when he looked at his Chaperone for the Evening Festivities, a deadpanned, lemon sucking appearing Felix Blake.  Felix didn’t even pretend to hide his strong desire to be anywhere but here.   He and Winston would much rather be home with Jemma, waiting on her hand and foot. Plus reading a literal library of self-help books while he struggled to be there and present for Jemma (and the baby! The **_BABY_**!) Yet, John got waylaid at the office, Phil was late, and Jemma had given him the big Bambi eyes so he had regretfully agreed to chaperone.

Really, he was a great deal of fun, did Mary Sue have to whine about him curtailing any fun for the evening?

It didn’t help his mood that Jemma had assured him that she knew he was fun, but maybe he could work a little harder on it for tonight.

“I thought Agent Garrett was the minder for tonight,” Danny whispered to Skye.  It was their first ‘official’ date after the meet n’ greet, and Danny had planned to ditch the old men chaperones as quickly as possible.

“Sadly, called away, so I agreed to chaperone. Make sure you keep your hands on table, and away from the state line, as it were,” Felix Blake announced. “Thank you for the drink.”

He rarely drank, but tonight was a special occasion.

He took one drink that the waiter held, handed the other to Skye and then toasted Danny who had gone completely white-faced. Skye, being nervous, took a gulp or three and finished the drink far quicker than her norm. Felix Blake took one sip, immediately realized that it tasted WRONG… spit it out and then punched Danny. That blow landed with a great deal of oomph before he flipped Danny on his back and restrained his hands behind his back with a cable tie. Yes, he always carried a couple with him, didn’t everyone?

For added protection, Winston even got into the act by growling at Danny.

The restaurant erupted into total chaos when Felix Blake slammed Danny’s face against the table.  There was a sound of breaking glassware and plates as they slid off the table. Well, Danny was paying for them.

“What did you put in the drink, asshole?” he roared. “Did you spike her drink also?”

He perhaps slammed Danny’s head a bit too hard as the semiconscious Danny wasn’t able to respond in full sentences, let alone words.  Blake grimaced his disgust at the world in general, John Garrett in particular, riffled through Danny’s pockets and pulled out his wallet. He took all of Danny’s money and handed it to the maitre d’.  “That should pay for damages. Now, get the bartender **_now_** , as I need to find out what the hell was put in the drink,” Blake growled.  “Mary Sue, call Jemma, tell her we need to meet her in the lab. How do you feel?”

“I feel… really relaxed,” Skye softly admitted. “But I also feel really…. Turned on by that display for sheer masculinity. And you have…. Cable ties… oohh… you must have been a boy scout as you’re prepared for everything. ”

The frightened bartender arrived, swore he had just made the three drinks and hadn’t added anything. The waiter insisted that he had done nothing, nothing at all, and Blake cursed. Loudly. Even Winton barked his displeasure.

“Come on, we have to go,” he ordered Skye who was staring at him like she was starving tigress and he was rare Delmonico Steak. It was extremely unnerving as she was licking her lips!

“To a hotel?” she hopefully asked. “Omigod, I did not just say that out loud.”

“Yes, we’re leaving. I know just the place,” he lied. “And Danny the dick drugged you, that’s why you have no filter.”

“Can’t we just leave him?” she pleaded. “Can we just have sex now?”

“’Fraid not,” he admitted. “I’ll tie him to the lamppost and ask Garrett and Coulson to swing by and pick him up.”

Yeah, because they could at least do CLEAN UP.

“Can’t we have sex first and then tie him to the lampost?” Mary Sue requested.

Christ, with her lack of body weight, the way she had gulped the drink and … probably on an empty stomach.  Oh dear God, she was about to pounce on him like a horde of hungry Chitauri warriors looking for an all you can eat shawarma joint.  

**_Phil, HELP! This is your stray!_ **

 “No, there’s a certain order that must be followed in these things.”

**_AS IN not in PUBLIC, AGENT._ **

“You’re so methodical. I bet having sex with you just really rocks a girl’s world. No wonder Jemma is always glowing,” she loudly announced to the stunned audience. In turn they all stared at the fuchsia colored Blake. “Oh my God, can I just **_die_** now?”

“Danny drugged you,” Felix repeated as he dragged the unconscious Danny out of the restaurant using the cable tie much to the happiness of the restaurant manager. “What you’re feeling is chemically induced and we will speak to Jemma. She’ll fix it. Then we will never mention this again to anyone.”

Please, God, please, as Skye was scaring him. Those inhuman eyes of hers were looking pretty ravenous right now.

“I didn’t realize you were that strong,” she murmured in true appreciation.

* * *

 

Naturally there was a traffic jam, it took them forty long minutes to get to his old apartment as it was closer to the restaurant than to his house, during which time Skye began exhibiting the full effects of the Danny’s drugs. She tried to repeatedly grab and grope his… shifter… and he finally managed to use a cable tie on her hands, leaving him with a very vocal problem as she was literally writhing in the passenger seat next to him.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it, fuck fuck fuck…” she cursed as she struggled for self-relief.

When she hit her pinnacle, her ecstatic scream nearly punctured his eardrums. Then she began writhing again.

“Didn’t that **_help_**?” he pleaded, as he would have been damn proud to give Jemma that level of ecstasy.  They were at a stop light and Mary Sue was causing the Jeep to rock n’ roll with her gyrations.  He could just imagine what the ‘Honk if you Love Jesus’ van behind him was thinking.

 ** _Hopefully, they were PRAYING for him as he needed_** BACKUP!

“No,” she whimpered. “It just made it worse. Do you know what he gave me?”

“I hope it isn’t what I think it is,” he admitted as he had a bad feeling about what it was. “If it is, you’ll be like this for the next day or so.”

“Noooo,” she whined. “God no. Then why did he drug **_you_**?”

“I grabbed the wrong drink. He ordered a drink for John, not me, and I took his drink because I refuse to drink that John Garrett endorsed turpentine excuse for liquor.”

“Why did he want to drink it also?”

 ** _Why, why, why. He was a DICK, wasn’t that answer enough, Mary Sue_**?

“It would enhance his performance and his stamina.  After a man gets in his twenty, there’s something called a refractory period…”

God, please let Jemma handle teaching the baby sex ed, ok? He’d handle the generic aspects about Mama Ducks and Daddy Ducks loving each other, but Jemma could handle the banana and the condom plus any further detailed explanations that were required.

“Heard of it,” she quipped.

“It would have been date rape, because you are completely unable to consent to anything right now,” Felix stated. “However, John Garrett would have castrated him if he had been your chaperone. That done, he would have bronzed it, and given it to you as a keychain. You may still get it in interoffice mail or maybe John will just present it to you in a prized commemorative case.”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“My old place,” Felix stated. Yes, home was too far away.

“Agent Blake, you dirty dog,” she purred. “Your place, and I’m restrained, naughty, naughty. I always knew you couldn’t be as inhibited and dull as you seemed. Nobody could be that **_repressed_**.”

**_Well, thanks so much Mary Sue._ **

“I need to take you someplace safe, because right now, if Kim Jong Un showed up, you’d try to fuck him,” Felix explained.  “My old bedroom is also soundproofed, so you can self-pleasure yourself until your voice gives out and no one will hear.”

“Agent Blake,” she repeated. “Really giving me ideas about your need to soundproof your bedroom. I’ll be so terribly lonely there by myself in your soundproofed bedroom. Come on, we can make some noise together?”

“The bedroom’s soundproof as I have nightmares,” he explained. “I relive having a building collapse on me, and my legs shattering because a beam fell on them. It’s not soundproofed due to any supposed sexual excess but because sometimes I scream when I sleep.”

Silence.

“What no comments about me being a screamer?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered.

* * *

 

Skye tried to hump him in the elevator. She managed to stop the elevator between floors, nearly triggering him into a panic attack and then she launched herself full speed at him.

 ** _John Garrett, I hate your fucking guts,_** Felix thought as he evaded Skye even while he put the elevator back into motion.

“Come on, Mary Sue, let’s wait until we get to my apartment,” he pleaded.  “You deserve better than a quickie in the elevator.”

“I thought Danny was nice,” Skye protested. “And he drugged me. What’s so wrong with me that I pick all losers?”

She sniffled and Felix was fooled into letting his guard down. His sympathetic shoulder pat permitted another full front launch at him and she began humping his bad knee.  That God his apartment was on a lower level, because… she was most assuredly a screamer and he didn’t want to wake the neighbors.

“Mary Sue… my bed is just a few doors away.  Let’s do this right?” he pleaded.

“Can’t we just do it **_now_**?” She pleaded.  “Don’t do it right, just do it now.”

“No, no, no.  It’s our first time, we need to do it properly.  There will be a nice bed. Let me treat you like you deserve? Please?”  He tried to radiate sincerity and Mary Sue’s face softened.  “The other guys were punk kids. They didn’t know how to treat you.  I have a really nice comfortable bed, and we’ll take our time, so it’s good for you. No morning after regrets, I promise.”

**_Because nothing was gonna happen. NOTHING, Mary Sue, WAS EVER GONNA HAPPEN._ **

“No wonder Jemma loves you,” she sniffled.  And damn him for a fool, he thought they were real tears this time. “I bet you’d never drug a girl to take advantage of her. Jemma has three men who are housebroken, and I get the Miles and Dannys of the world. What is so wrong with me?”

Well, that pitiful comment made him feel really guilty. He had failed to keep her safe. 

Then he promised her a kiss after she closed her eyes, and instead he night-nighted her into sweet oblivion.  For his own safety and virtue, he restrained her with soft ties to the bed. Winston’s look of stern reproach didn’t help his guilt, not one bit. Well, Winston had the big snip years ago, he didn’t know how thinking with the wrong head could get one into trouble.

Felix pulled out his phone, and dialed Jemma. As he feared, his favorite biochemist confirmed that the news wasn’t good.  Danny’s cocktail would have to work its way out of Mary Sue’s system. (AND HIS)  It was gonna be a long twenty four hours until the drugs cleared.

God, he hated John Garrett.

And Phil.

He hated BOTH OF THEM.

* * *

 

Twenty four hours later.

Felix limped towards the room, and he saw Skye sitting on the edge of the bed, looking small and scared. Fortunately, she was clothed as she had kept wiggling out of them and had given him quite the eyeful (and earful about what she wanted to do to his old carcass) when he had checked on her multiple times during the night.

“Hey,” he said from the safety of the doorway.

She looked up and smiled a weak smile. “Hey, Agent Blake. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Felix,” he suggested. “I think you should call me Felix as this qualifies as personal. Before I come into the room, any desire to fuck me until I scream for mercy?”

He wasn’t sure if sitting on the bed was a good idea, as her hormonal induced strength had been nigh near uncontrollable – especially as he hadn’t want to touch any inappropriate areas.  Therefore he stood.  Plus his knee and hip were in absolute agony after she had struggled to flip him onto the mattress when he had been trying to reclothe her during the night.

“Dear God, I didn’t say that, did I?” she asked.

“Screamed it loudly. Offered to make a man out of me, show me what a good time was, assorted other indecencies. You promised me a rather educational erotic experience. There was even a tawdry promise to dislocate my GOOD hip so I’d have a matching set. Not sure if that was before you offered to tag team with Jemma, as you thought I liked multiple partners.”

“Oh, fuck me,” she breathed as she leaned her face into her hands.

“No, didn’t act like that that, because you were drugged and obviously not in your right mind.  If anything had happened between us, it would have been rape,” he admitted. “I just thought I should put your offers out on the table, let you know that I knew you were not in any rational state. Now that you’re capable of having a conversation I want to reassure you that I will refuse to discuss your offers with anyone else, including Jemma. I know you two are close, I don’t wish to put a strain on your friendship especially with Jemma being pregnant.”

“Thank you,” Skye whispered.                                          

It was a white lie, because he had already spoken to Jemma and had put a request for some one on one time when he got home. Then let Phil and John join them in bed after his first few orgasms, he was, pardon his vernacular, experiencing a serious case of…. Persistant arousal.  Damn that Jesus Juice.  On one hand, whatever they had given him to jump start his heart had given him the vigor of a twenty year old, on the other hand, sometimes, the vigor of a twenty year old was hard to manage when you were fifty years old and had been repeatedly propositioned.

Because even though he had been physically tempted (as he was male, sorry. He was a dick and he’d admit it but she had flashed her breasts at him and offered him titty sex and he WAS DRUGGED after all), there was no sex worth invoking Clause 7 of the contract he had made with his family.

Any **_voluntary_** sexual intercourse outside of the group was cause for that person’s immediate expulsion from the group. No exception whatsoever, though being drugged or sprinkled with alien sex pollen wasn’t voluntary in his mind. Seriously, Skye had long since outgrown her crush on him, because he was an unlovable bastard.  There was no way it wasn’t anything but nonconsensual.  A case could have been made as he had been drugged also, but no. Not worth risking it, no way he’d survive losing time with his family… his baby… to see her (as he **_knew_** it was a girl) on only alternative weekends and no holidays… and having to leave his home with only his car, his guitars and a few small items.  Plus a shattered heart.

He’d leave Winston with the family as he’d eat his gun if that ever happened.

“Why don’t you take a shower? Get changed, Jemma has some clothes here, so use them. I’ll do the laundry. Phil will stop by and give you a ride back as I can’t leave the dryer running.”

Sounded so much better than he didn’t want to be trapped in a car with her just in case some of that sex syrup was still in her system.

“Thank you for taking of me, Agent Blake,” Mary Sue whispered. She looked small and he felt protective towards her.

Well, it looked like he had adopted Mary Sue in spite of his best hopes. He would confess that he had failed to keep her safe.

“Felix,” he reminded her. “Don’t thank me. That’s what a real man does. He doesn’t get someone drugged to take advantage of her.  Because that shit is just completely fucked up. Phil screamed at Fury as did John. As I will when I see him next as will Jemma, Trip and Fitz.  Congratulations, you won’t have to endure this anymore. You’ve been taken out of rotation, as there’s no way in hell we’d permit you to possibly risk being date raped. You can do it the old way. No genetic testing, no selective matches based on psych profiles.”

Her expression on her face plainly stated that she doubted that she would ever wish to date again, but he was sure Phil would work on it.  He was handing off the Mary Sue/Skye improvement project to Phil Coulson with a thank you and firm handshake as **_SHE HAD THREATENED TO DISLOCATE HIS GOOD HIP._**

Mary Sue nodded her head.  “I’m just so sorry.”

“It’s over, it’s done. Your sexual frenzy for my carcass was completely drug induced. You look tired, why don’t you just take a nap?” he suggested.

She nodded once more.

“How much does Jemma know?” was her next question.

“She knows that you were drugged and with what you were drugged. She doesn’t know any specific, explicit invitation that you offered, nor will she ever.”

“She must be angry with me.”  With that soft comment, Mary Sue… Skye… whatever her name was… wiped her eyes.

“Not angry at you. Not at all,” he assured her. “Now go to sleep.”

* * *

 

Phil arrived at long last, carrying supplies.

“Jemma’s waiting for you at home, now go,” Phil explained. “Skye ok?”           

“No, she’s humiliated and worried that Jemma will be angry with her. I don’t know why, I’m not that much of a catch,” Felix protested.  Then he slowly confessed his fear, “If anything, Jemma might be angry with me as I failed to keep her safe.”

It was a sick thought that had bothered him through the night, growing and gnawing at his soul.  He was supposed to protect Mary Sue and he hadn’t.  Jemma and Mary Sue were besties… and he had failed.

“She’s not. She trusts both of you. Now go, I’ll do cleanup and that includes laundry,” Phil insisted. “I brought my red twizzlers and Lola, so we’ll take a nice, long ride back home.”

“Can’t believe you eat that stuff. Come on, Winston, time to go see Mom,” Felix ordered. He exhaled slowly as he reached for his car keys.

“Felix, stop thinking what you’re thinking. Jemma isn’t angry with you,” was Phil’s quiet comment.

Felix nodded his head, once, before he left the apartment.   Well, it was easy for Phil to think that.  He hadn’t screwed up as badly as Felix had.

* * *

 

Jemma greeted him when he entered their home.  She was wearing something soft and silky, but he couldn’t focus on that. Instead, he began to apologize that he had failed Mary Sue; how he should have done a more thorough background check on Daniel, and a hundred thousand different ways that inner voice had informed him on how spectacularly he had screwed up.

She kissed him in mid-explanation, so he had to cease his explanation.  When they broke apart, she placed one finger across his lips to prevent him from continuing his confession.

“You dear, sweet man. I am not angry with you for any reason.”

The adult Felix desired to nod his head, the fearful six year old Felix who had watched his mother leave spoke one word instead, “ _Promise_?”

“Yes. Now let me take care of you,” she whispered.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Jemma greeted Felix when he entered their home.  She was wearing something soft and silky, but he couldn’t focus on that. Instead, he began to apologize that he had failed Mary Sue; how he should have done a more thorough background check on Daniel, and a hundred thousand different ways that inner voice had informed him on how spectacularly he had screwed up.

She kissed him in mid-explanation, so Felix had to cease his explanation.  When they broke apart, she placed one finger across his lips to prevent him from continuing his confession.

“You dear, sweet man. I am not angry with you for any reason.”

The adult Felix desired to nod his head, the fearful six year old Felix who had watched his mother leave spoke one word instead, “ _Promise_?”

“Yes. Now let me take care of you,” she whispered.

They kissed. Well, she kissed him and then he kissed her back, **_eagerly_** … **_hungrily_**. As though he wished to devour her whole.

Not that Good Girl Jemma had ever plotted a comparison chart between her three boys on their sexual prowess (as the three did such wonderful things in their own unique styles) but if she had ever thought about it…. When she was exploring her inner bad girl… say one night when she couldn’t sleep in her empty bed… as none of her boys had been home or perhaps she was away at a conference, Jemma would have categorized John as hedonistic, Phil as cosmopolitan, Felix as more… **_reverent_**.

Or perhaps… **_restrained_**.

Not that he wasn’t an absolutely amazing lover… but Felix had always been very gentle and tender. Especially now that she was up the duff, each touch, each kiss was so very careful applied as though she was made of the delicate china.

Once, a lifetime or more ago, after they had shared their first kiss, Felix had confessed his fear about his OCD and PTSD and possibility of triggering obsessive … dark sexual thoughts.  So she understood Felix’s concerns about his conditions, and she struggled to be understanding rather than vexed about how sometimes he had to repeat a ritual ad naseum until he felt safe. 

Jemma Simmons was a hot blood woman. As such, it didn’t meant that she wouldn’t mind if he (playfully) ravaged her every once in a while. However, his strict control over his carnal desire had been loosened due to the drugs he had ingested, and she had to be protective of her little duckling.  It was hard to be an adult, especially with a growling Blake nipping her neck and his keenness (as it better not be his Smith & Wesson MP that was poking her… ) However, she had barely emotionally survived the last time an overwhelmed Blake had gone to ground. Therefore Jemma needed to set the ground rules before they quickly embarked on what promised to be a literal orgy of sexual pleasure.

“Felix,” she whispered.

He pulled back. “Did I hurt you? Oh God… the baby… did I… ” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to nip you. It’s the drugs… I swear it’s the drugs…” His eyes were widely dilated and she could feel his pulse racing and that he was beginning to tremble.  “She kept offering me sex, Jemma. And I didn’t… but… it got….harder and harder to refuse each time she offered because the fucking drugs… Jemma… I didn’t touch her, I swear.”

While Jemma tried to collect her scattered thoughts as her body wanted nothing more than for her brain to disengage so because… hello! serious shagging in her future, Felix’s overclocked brain immediately overthought her silence.

“John’s here, right?” Felix questioned as he pulled away from her. “I should probably ask him if we can fuck as he’s physically tougher.”

Oh bloody hell no. Not when her hormones were ramped up and ready.

He appeared startled when Jemma pulled him back to her.

“Felix, if you think I’m planning on sharing this with John Garrett, you are sadly mistaken. He’s waiting in the wings for his cue if I need an assistant. I wanted to assure you that I understand your enthusiasm is due to the drugs. So let’s go to bed and have fun.”

Felix’s face fell and he appeared… wounded.

“My enthusiasm for you is the same as it’s always been… my control is the issue…” he whispered. “I have to be controlled because… it would kill me if I ever hurt you. But you’ve been all I’ve been thinking about since I had that goddamn drink. Those little sounds you make…the way you squirm when I go down on you…how you always fall asleep with the blanket positioned in such a way that I can admire your breasts. You’re such an exhibitionist.”

Jemma blushed but she refused to get distracted even as Felix was stroking her.  

“You’re worried about something,” Jemma prompted between Felix’s nips.  “I know you won’t hurt me, so what’s bothering you?”

“You doubt me… because you believe that normally I don’t sexually desire you?” Felix asked. “That this need … is just due to the drugs? I know that I fucked up royally when you were hinting that you were pregnant and I told you that I’d understand if you didn’t want to make love. I thought I had reassured you that I was an idiot.  Would you like me to have Phil confirm?”

He was intently staring at her.

“Felix, I have no doubt that you desire me,” she stated. “I just want to make sure that you’re in a good head space before I shag you until you’re limp…”

“Trust me, it will take a few go-rounds,” he jokingly promised which was a distinct nonanswer.  “I’m thinking five or six times easily… God, I haven’t felt like this since I was fifteen.”

“What is bothering you?” Jemma repeated.

He pulled away and tapped his fingers against his temples.

“What if the thoughts don’t stop? What if they get… **_darker_**? What if it’s all I think about… those… thoughts…” Felix whispered. “What… what…if this damn drug destroys my control? What if I’m now a passenger on that crazy train, first class ticket for one because of Danny boy?”

“We will work on it **_together_** ,” Jemma assured him.  “Now, let’s go to bed.”

She wrapped her arms around Felix and attempted to move him towards bed and sexy!fun!times. Felix, however remained immotile.

“Felix Blake, you are forcing me to take drastic action,” she stated. Really, it was for his own good that she unleashed the Jemma Simmons’ equivalent of a nuclear bomb on him.

A single solitary teardrop rolled down her cheek which cause Felix to stop talking.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered.  “If you exhaust me in the most delightful way, don’t worry. John will join us shortly, and Phil will be along momentarily.”

* * *

 

Eight or so hours later of strenuous carnal exercise, a blissful, utterly sated Jemma was in a dozing state.

She was Big Spooning Phil, with a deeply asleep Felix next to him. On the other side of Felix was John as her co-partners had taken Felix in hand, if you will. She tried not to giggle at her naughty pun but it had been delicious fun to watch the three of them together.  Caring, yet caustic, and really quite surprisingly hot. Especially when Garrett had suggested that she direct the three of them.  A flustered Phil had done a double take and Felix had dryly announced that Jemma had only been pretending to sleep, but had been watching everything, so why not?

Her boys had taken such delightful care of Felix, even though John had been Garrett. “Oh, for the love of God, man. Put it away before you poke someone’s eye out,” Garrett had muttered early on. “Can we get it stuffed and mounted?”

Oh, and how she had enjoyed directing her boys in how to take care of Felix.

“I think Pookie Bear is finally asleep,” John softly announced.  Long moment of silence. “He must be sleeping as he hates when I call him Pookie Bear. Ok, Phil, I’ll watch him while he’s sleeping.”

Phil grimaced, as John would never let him forget that comment as long as he lived, before he spoke. “Think he’s down for the count?”

“I hope so, I’m just plain tuckered out,” admitted John.  “How’s Blue Skies?

“Mortified,” Phil admitted. “We had a long chat and I assured her that all of us know that she was drugged.”

“She won’t do anything stupid, will she?” John asked.

“No, she promised me that she won’t quit today. I can’t promise you what she’ll do tomorrow. I’ll talk to her again tomorrow, but for now, I’m thinking shower and prepping something for breakfast tomorrow. We’re tossing these sheets, right?”  Phil asked.

“Felix might want them as a fond memento,” offered John.  When he saw Jemma’s glare of disapproval that was focused solely on him, he quickly added, “But probably not. Wake me when the food is ready. I need some beauty sleep.”

With that, John Garrett rolled on his side and fell asleep. Quickly. Without a care in the world.

Phil exhaled loudly in his disbelief, and shook his head. “You need a nap?”

“I need a shower too,” she admitted.

“Want to conserve water?” He quipped.

“Phil…” she softly murmured.

“Trust me, I don’t think you have to worry about me ravaging you in the shower.”

“Raincheck?” she asked.

Phil’s obvious relief made her laugh.

“Promise.”

* * *

 

“I’m a little worried about Felix,” Jemma softly admitted to Phil when they were in the kitchen. “I wanted to talk to you before he wakes up.”

“The drugs should be out of his system,” offered Phil.

“Not that, but he expressed a concern to me about the possibility of having crazy thoughts due to the drugs Danny slipped him. That due to his PTSD and OCD, he has locked down those thoughts…and… his loss of control tonight...”

Phil stared at a spot on the wall for a bit and then he nodded his head. “I already spoke with Andy before I joined the three of you. He gave me a list of symptoms that I should keep an eye out for, just in case Felix has a… break.”

He quickly reviewed what Jemma should watch out, but he ended it with a hopeful, “He’s sleeping now, so really, that’s a good sign. When Nikki left him, he would have bouts of insomnia… which just exacerbated his issues. Andy thinks Felix is a better position today than when he had his breakdown. He has you and the baby. His support structure has increased significantly as he now has Fitz, Trip and even Skye.”

Winston’s big head popped over the table, and he glared at Phil.

“And it goes without saying that Winston is very important in keeping Felix stable.”

* * *

 

Felix Blake hadn’t been sleeping, instead his mind had been racing too fast for his exhausted body to fall asleep.  He had heard everything… including Mary Sue threatening to quit. Mary Sue couldn’t quit on him. He gotten used to her and her quirks and… she couldn’t just quit on him.  She was leaving him and he needed to convince her to stay because she was familiar and … and… he …

Therefore, after Phil and Jemma had left the room, Felix Blake escaped from the dead to the world John Garrett’s guard.  It took a few minutes for him to get dressed as his hip was screaming along with few other sore body parts, but before long he was standing in Skye’s apartment. 

Her clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had seemingly caught her on the verge of flight.

“You can’t quit,” he shakily protested. “You just learned how to make coffee without setting the office on fire.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

One month later.

“So, buy something nice for the wedding,” Felix informed Jemma. He handed her a black credit card that had her name on it. “You should be able to get something stunning with this. John and Phil can wear matching bow ties. Since I’m in the wedding party, I get no choice in the color of my bowtie.”

Felix tried to ignore Skye who was hovering in the background.  Since she was now part & parcel of the Coulson Traveling Circus, she had been invited to the wedding of the century also (Jasper/Nikki), but she had been alarmed to find out what was required (money and more money) for a formal nighttime wedding.

“Let me know what style dress you’re wearing so we can buy you something that sparkles,” Felix rumbled.

“Felix,” Jemma protested. “I don’t want to upstage Nikki at her wedding.”

She and Felix’ ex had a tentative truce which meant that they said hello when they saw each in the hallway and she was content with that. (And ok, Nikki had come in guns ablazin’ during the entire HYDRA kidnapping attempt so technically Jemma owed her. And really since Nikki had given up Felix, leaving him easy prey for John’s match making shenanigans, she probably really owed Nikki. However, she flatly refused to give Nikki any credit for snagging John and Phil.)

“We want to buy you something that sparkles,” Felix stated once more.  Which meant that Felix had decided it necessary and proper for her to sparkle, Phil had agreed and John had been given no say in the matter. It was how their relationship chugged along on all cylinders.

Jemma glared at him and then Felix played hard ball. “You can use the card to get Skye something to wear, only if **_we_** get to buy you something sparkly.”

Skye brightened up, which meant Felix had won.  

“You can buy her shoes also,” Felix added.

Jemma was tempted to ask if Felix’s generosity included buying Skye all sorts of unmentionables (bra!) just to see Felix blush. He’d make her pay later in the semi privacy of their bedroom and she was feeling randy. (Hormones!)

“Hey Boss, do I get something sparkly also?” Skye hopefully inserted.

Jemma was watching Felix very closely, so she saw him flinch. Slightly.  After the drugged, extremely randy Skye had promised to dislocate his good hip so he’d have a matching set, a shellshocked Felix had been slightly uncomfortable around Skye.  (Ok – terrified)  He did his best to hide it, but Jemma knew him very well.

“No,” was his flat retort. “I am not buying you anything sparkly.”

Skye pouted, and John laughed.

“I’m buying you a dress and shoes. Go talk to John if you want something sparkly,” Felix retorted.

“I’ll buy you a gun, better talk to Phil if you want something sparkly,” offered John.

“Let’s go shopping,” Jemma informed Skye.   While she was confident in her victory, it was best to leave while the getting was good and she still held the credit card in her hot little hands.

“Don’t worry, I won’t remove the tags,” Skye informed Felix.  At his perplexed look, she added, “That way I can return it the next day.”

“I said for Jemma to buy you a dress, not borrow one through nefarious means,” he retorted.   Then he shook his head and decided it was time for a retreat. “Winston? Walkie?”

The Giant Schnauzer picked up his leash and ran over to his pet.

* * *

 

“I don’t understand him,” Skye admitted as they entered Nieman Marcus. “I don’t think he likes me but he’s buying me a dress. And shoes.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jemma promised.  “And really, you’re part of the family now, so that means he likes you. It’s a requirement.”

‘Yeah, right’ mouthed Skye.

Jemma nodded her head. “You are a member of the family now.”

“Ever since the Danny incident I’m noticing that we’re back to the way we were in the beginning, where he’s always looking for an escape route,” Skye explained.  

“You did proposition him a few times,” Jemma reminded her friend. Skye had quickly confessed everything to her BFF including her offer to make a man out of Felix.  “He’s still a little rattled even though he thinks it was due to Danny drugging you.  He doesn’t realize that he’s quite the silver fox.”

The two women began walking in opposite directions.

“Uh… Jemma… maternity dresses are over here?” Skye pointed out in a quiet whisper.  Jemma had only told a few close friends the happy news but Skye had been informed.

“They’re **_hideous_**. The wedding is two weeks away, and I’ve only put on two pounds, so I don’t think I need to look there yet… Besides, I don’t want to look **_frumpy_**. Not at **_HER_** wedding,” Jemma explained. “Not when it’s our first public outing. I want to look stunning and sexy, and fully capable of keeping three men in total sexual thrall.”

Skye was obviously not convinced. In fact, she looked rather doubtful.

“And I also don’t want to look pregnant,” added Jemma. 

“We could go somewhere else, can’t we? How about Tarjey??” Skye asked.

“Target? No, we are not shopping at **_Target_**. No, no, no. I put off getting my dress for this reason as I highly doubt that my body will change drastically in two weeks before the wedding.”  Jemma then pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is the dress I’m trying on.”

Skye looked at the paper that detailed Jemma’s hopes and dreams for being absolutely stunning at the wedding. It had beads, it had strategic cutouts, and it loudly proclaimed that the woman who dare wear this dress was a sexual goddess.

“It’s got cutouts on the torso, Jemma,” Skye informed her. She then hissed, “What if the booby fairy shows up and hits you with her magic booby wand?”

Jemma made a very unladylike comment.

* * *

 

Two weeks later in the hotel room.  T minute three hours from the wedding.

“Skye doesn’t have a room.  They sold her reservation out from her. It looks like she has to stay with us,” Felix growled. There was no response from the madding crowds, so he repeated himself. 

“That’s not the only problem,” Phil quietly advised.

“I don’t really think this is a problem. I must confess that I’m utterly enthralled,” John not so helpfully offered. His response earned him a hard smack from Phil Coulson and a loud sniffle from Jemma. 

“It fit two days ago,” Jemma tearfully insisted. “It fit perfectly.”

“What’s the problem?” Felix asked.

“Her cups… they doth runneth over,” John explained. “Plus, we can’t zip her dress.”

Felix wasn’t sure what the problem was, so he decided he needed to take a look.  He took one look and then a double take. He pinched his nose and closed his eyes.  “I would be delighted if you wore that at home, but… I think you’ll get arrested for public lewdness if you wore that.”

Jemma was sniffling, as Skye’s Booby Fairy had arrived, and being an absent minded soul, had apparently bopped Jemma with her magic booby wand, not once, not twice but three times.  Her breasts were straining against their cruel confinement and there was definite nipples slippage from the cutouts.

“I can’t get the dress zipped. If I do, I don’t think she’ll be able to breathe,” Phil confessed. “I think there’s only one option.”

Jemma nodded her head, and wiped her eyes. “I think it’s too late to get a dress. Go have fun, Skye. Make sure you tell me all about it.”

“That wasn’t the option I was thinking,” Phil admitted.

Felix nodded and grabbed his cell phone so he could start Stark Searching what he needed.  He was looking particularly rakish, yet flustered in his tuxedo.  Winston was also appearing quite snazzy as he was wearing a tuxedo vest and bow tie that matched his pet’s outfit. Unlike his pet, he was calmness and serenity, as he didn’t understand the necessity of wearing clothes in social settings.

“Three yards will cover the cutouts and the zipper?” Felix questioned.

Phil nodded.

“I’ll get enough for a bow also. Phil, go to the front desk and ask for a sewing kit. Once I come back with the fabric, John, you start sewing her into her dress. I’ve got pictures in two hours, so I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Jemma whose cups doth runneth overeth, sat on the hotel bed while John and Phil searched for a measuring tape in their bag of supplies, and her BFFF (bestest Female Friend Forever) Skye leaned towards her. “Are you sure about this?” Skye’s voice was full of concern.

“I’m pretty sure that I can’t wear that dress,” Jemma hissed.  She’d get arrested within minutes as the girls were out, loud and proud.

“Well, yeah, but you’re having GARRETT fix your dress.  Jonathan, I’ve never met a turtleneck I’ve never not fallen madly in love with, Garrett,” Skye helpfully reminded Jemma. “You wanted to be sexy, right? Turtlenecks are not, and have never been, sexy. He has ninety-six black turtlenecks, Jemma. NINETY-SIX.”

“Hey!” protested Garrett.  “I’ll be proud to let you know that I can sew extremely well. I was undercover at one of the Gay Paree haute couture shops when I was a baby agent.  I can cut a pattern and even sew.”

Phil Coulson, wisely, said nothing, but still nodded his head in agreement.

“Least I have a useful skill, Phil just knows how to make soap,” continued John.

“Soap?” chorused Skye and Jemma even as Phil grimaced.

“Organic soap and organic body lotion,” explained Phil.  “I should have my setup ready to go next week that way I’ll have the organic soap and lotion ready for the baby.”

“So Coulson does handmade soaps, Garrett sews. What does Agent Blake do in Jemma’s Harem?” Skye saucily questioned.

Garrett ignored that as he had located a measuring tape. He measured Jemma, once, twice, three times and then gave the tape to Phil.  Phil measured twice and then exhaled. The two men looked at each other and nodded their heads in unison.  Garett looked pleased while Coulson appeared… resigned.

“What?” Jemma asked.

The whirling dervlish known as Garrett chortled. “Let me call him! Can I? Can I? Let me! Let me!”

Phil slapped John’s hand and grabbed his cell phone. “No.” He pointed his finger at Garrett as though he was ordering a dog to sit. In a firmer tone, he added, “No, you may not call Felix.”

“Let me!” chortled Garrett.

“No! I’ll do it.”

“He never lets me have any fun,” pouted Garrett to his trapped audience (Skye and Jemma). Wisely both women refrained from exclaiming that it was probably best for the universe that Coulson was the Designated Adult in Charge of John Garrett.

“When it’s a choice between you having fun or Blake’s sanity, guess which way I’m deciding,” was Phil’s retort.

* * *

 

Blake had managed to locate the necessary items in assorted colors and textiles with plenty of time to spare when his phone rang.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes,” he informed Phil.

“We got another issue, Agent.  Instructions are being sent to your phone.”  CLICK.

Blake loudly exhaled and then reviewed his phone messages. He then began to loudly curse Coulson and his assorted dead ancestors, all the way to back to the very first Son of Cole. His Service Dog, Winston, nudged him on his knee and gave him a very disapproving look as Winston did not appreciate profanity.

“I have to find a bra for your mother,” Felix explained to his bestie (Don’t tell Phil, ok?) “I have to find a bra and be ready for the wedding pictures in less than two hours. Thank God, we’re in Manhattan.”

* * *

 

“You’re sending Agent Blake out to get her a bra?” Skye repeated for what seemed to be the ninth time. Jemma had to quietly admit to herself that she had some doubts about the wisdom of Blake buying her bras.  Though it could have been Garrett. Well, least she'd have something ... sensible and dependable to wear.  Even though she would have much preferred sexy. 

“There’s no other agent I’d trust with that assignment,” Coulson primly informed her while Garrett said nothing as he was busy pinning the dress.   

* * *

 

Felix Blake was a seasoned, veteran SHIELD agent; however, he had no problem admitting to Phil later that he nearly turned tail and ran after he was verbally assaulted by six different sale attendants who, upon smelling blood in the water, were determined to earn a commission.

“Stop it,” snapped Felix as he decided to handle this as one of Coulson’s assignments gone terribly, terribly wrong and that he was required to do cleanup.  That meant, he’d have to use The Glare ™ and The Voice ™ to get what he needed. He rattled off a bra size and a cup size and announced that whoever found the bra would get the commissions.

“Honey, I don’t think that’s your size,” offered one clerk who Felix had immediately identified as the Diva of Décolletage. “I think you’re an AA cup myself.”

“It’s for my wife, and you’re not getting the commission,” he retorted which caused the rest of the group to cackle like hens.

“We need to ask you a few questions,” explained an elderly woman who wore two measuring tapes around her neck. She appeared to be two years older than God, which meant that she’d be trouble.  She got her kicks out of tormenting poor lambs sent to the sartorial slaughter, else she’d be at Benny’s Beautician Bar getting her helmet hair sprayed for another week of pinochle and mahjong.  Her eyes glittered in true delight as she focused on her victim. “Describe your wife’s breasts.”

“Absolute perfection,” he retorted which caused an approving coo to erupt from the brassiere bunch.  It seemed that response combined with the Wedding tuxedoes he and Winston were wearing had won over the majority of the breast brigade.  Except for the Queen of the Shop, who wasn’t impressed.

“No, no, no. Small, medium, heavy? Self-Supporting? Asymmetric, Athletic, Bell Shape, Conical, Relaxed, East West, Round, Side Set, Slender, Tear Drop, Uneven?”

Well, no doubt Garrett would be able to willingly expound multiple adjectives on Jemma’s breasts, but Felix was a private man. Glorious was enough for him, and it would have to be enough for them.

“I just need to get her a bra; I gave you her bra size, do you really need this information? We have a wedding in two hours and she needs a new bra.”

Somehow, he found himself sitting on a couch, with coffee being procured for him with a side of assorted dog biscuits for Winston, as he related the entire story behind The Bra Escapade to Miss Ella. That Jemma was pregnant and that what had once fit, hadn’t, and he had to show them a picture of the dress.  That in turn, revealed it was his ex-fiancée’s wedding, and it was their first big event together. He didn’t mention the other two guys that would be tagging along as Jemma deserved some secrets.

And really Jemma’s comfort was of paramount importance, which is why he returned back to the hotel with a dozen or so assorted bras. Yeah, that was the reason, not because his OCD had flared and he hadn’t been sure what the hell to buy. He returned victorious, with balconettes, two convertible bras, a U plunge bra and well… he bought the cage bra because the very idea of Jemma wearing it? He deserved some sort of reward after dealing with THAT motley crew.

There was also a silk yukata robe in colors he thought she might like.

He didn’t even want to think about what the Bra Squad had thrown into the three bags as apparently his total purchase price had earned him the fear inducing ‘free gifts’. He had flatly refused the sequined heart shaped nipple covers with the tassels but they had kept mysteriously reappearing in the bags along with the various candles, bath salts and matches.

* * *

 

Her brave Felix returned with several bags worth of bras and she bestowed a kiss on her most loyal of knights.  He deserved it as apparently bra shopping had been a bit traumatic for him, as he had bought THREE bags worth of undergarments. She reached into the bag # 1 and pulled out a wrapped package that upon being opened, revealed something small and lacey. Ok, three small and lacey items with long, silk ties.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have sent him.  That’s **_not_** a bra,” offered Skye. “That’s a set of lace handcuffs and an eye mask. Pretty kinky there, Agent.”

If their life had been a sitcom, there would have been the sound of a record being scratched as everyone turned to face Skye.  Even Winston tilted his head in perplexed befuddlement at her.

“Not that …I’d know from… personal experience,” Skye slowly confessed to fill the awkward silence as from the look on Agent Blake’s face he was remembering in full technicolor, surround sound the time she threatened to make a man of him thanks to being drugged by Dipshit Danny.  Oh, and plus her generous offer to break his hip so he’d have a matching set.  “Ok, sitting down on the bed and keeping my mouth shut.”

“Apparently, there some freebies that they put into the bag as they hit their commission total today thanks to me.” Felix announced in a very dry tone before he continued, “Winston and I have to go for pictures so we’ll be leaving. Phil, make sure she gets the necklace and the bracelet. And…”

Long pause.

“I did **_not_** purchase anything with sequins and tassels, ok? Black, red, heart shaped or star shaped, I did not purchase them.”

“TASSELS?” Garrett exclaimed in true delight. “Blakie!”

“Leaving,” the flustered Blake announced as he exited stage right.

“Did anyone buy me anything sparkly?” Skye hopefully asked. Then as a quick afterthought, “I’ll skip the sequined tassels.”

* * *

 

“Ok, close your eyes,” Phil requested to Jemma after a suitable bra had been determined and donned. “We’ll put the dress on you, and John might need to make alterations.  Then we’ll put the jewelry on and… we’re almost ready for the big debut of Jemma and her boy band.”

“We can even use the eye mask to confirm that she can’t sneak a peek,” John offered.

Phil laughed, and easily agreed. “Blake is so planning his revenge for the bra shop. I wonder if there is anything left in her size in the shop.”

“I don’t know why he’d be angry, some of those are really nice,” John easily agreed as he pulled the dress up so not to mess up her hair. “That cage bra for example, made my heart sing and other parts engage. Now, start zipping, Phil.”

Jemma kept her eyes tightly closed in the hopes that the dress would fit, even as Phil easily pulled the zipper closed.

“You can breathe, you know,” he gently teased. “Now keep your eyes closed while we finish this.”

Phil carefully adjusted the necklace even as John placed the bracelet on her wrist.

“Damn, our boy does have good taste in jewelry, doesn’t he?” John softly admitted. 

“I helped,” inserted Phil. “Nice, but not too nice. We don’t want her to outshine the bride.”

“Let me see, let me see,” inserted Skye. She stopped and loudly gasped.

“What?” Jemma asked as she opened her eyes to gaze upon her reflection. The three-strand pearl choker was classy, and it matched her bracelet perfectly. She also had to honestly admit that she was really rocking the cleavage, but that wasn’t what had made Skye so happy.

“You’ve got a baby bump! It’s the littlest baby bump, but it’s there!” exclaimed Skye.


End file.
